Page 44 of The Women of Oak Ridge

MY PARENTS WOULD BE ashamed of me.

That thought kept me awake at night after I agreed to hide Clive’s stolen documents.

Every time I glanced at Sissy’s headboard, a wave of guilt rolled over me.

Mama would be so disappointed if she knew what I’d done.

Pa, too, although I suspected he would have more sympathy for the predicament I found myself in.

The thing is, they were the reason I’d done it.

If I wasn’t so afraid of losing my job and the salary that helped my family, I would march across the muddy field to Castle on the Hill, find the office of the man in charge of the Reservation, and tell him everything.

Even if it came down to my word against Clive’s, I’d rather go to jail than be part of his traitorous work.

But I knew I wouldn’t tell anyone. Couldn’t, in fact. Too much was at stake. If Pa was ever to be free of the enormous debt he owed the coal company, he needed my help.

My guilty conscience, however, hung over me like a dark, ominous cloud.

Garlyn had noticed something was wrong when he came to pick me up for the concert at Grove Hall.

Although I’d tried to brush it off as simply being tired, I found his worried gaze on me throughout the night.

Would he understand my reasoning for helping Clive, I wondered?

Although I usually enjoyed Christmas carols, I hadn’t been able to appreciate the beautiful music or Garlyn’s company.

Too many worries kept me on edge. By the end of the evening, I’d come to a decision.

Until I returned the secret documents to Clive, I would keep my distance from everyone, including Garlyn.

If he or someone else noticed I was acting suspiciously or in a way that wasn’t typical, I could find myself in a heap of trouble.

Then once I handed the sealed envelope to Clive the day after Christmas, I would wash my hands of the entire mess and get on with my life.

My resolve was tested, however, when Garlyn walked me to the front entrance of the dormitory after the concert.

He’d hinted he would like to hear Handel’s Messiah at Chapel on the Hill, hope shining in his eyes.

As much as I’d hated to do it, I’d lied and said I was busy with an activity in the dorm that night.

Disappointment stole the hope from his eyes, but I didn’t change my mind.

I’d make it up to him once I was free of the hold Clive had on me.

Mrs. Kepple was in the lobby of the dorm when I arrived home after work.

“Maebelle, would you please come to my office? I have something to discuss with you.”

My stomach dropped to the floor. Had she heard about the fire? Did she know I had stolen documents hidden in my room? What if she’d discovered them already? Was there an MP waiting in her office to arrest me?

My knees felt like jelly as I followed her to the small room behind the reception desk. To my relief, there was no one else there.

“This package arrived for Sissy,” she said. A brown paper-wrapped parcel sat on the corner of the desk. “It appears to be from her family. I was going to return it, but I decided you may want to do that yourself, being that you know more about her sudden departure than I do.”

I accepted the package and noted the return address was from Georgia.

Why would Sissy’s family send a package to her if she’d gone home, as Clive claimed?

“You should also be aware that I will assign you another roommate in the new year. We can’t hold the space for Sissy any longer.

People arrive on the Reservation every week.

There’s even talk of adding additional beds to some of the larger rooms to accommodate more women.

” I’m sure my face revealed displeasure, because Mrs. Kepple offered a look of compassion.

“I know you’re disappointed. From what I saw, you and Sissy got along well.

” She lowered her voice. “Someone indicated Sissy was having issues with the young man she was seeing, which is unfortunate if that’s the reason she left.

With so many eligible men in Oak Ridge, a pretty girl like Sissy would have her pick. ”

I could guess who the someone was who’d spread gossip about Sissy. Prudence Thorpe was often in Mrs. Kepple’s company, no doubt wagging her tongue about this gal or that guy.

“Thank you for the package, Mrs. Kepple. I’ll write to Sissy’s mother and see about getting Sissy’s belongings returned to her.”

I left the office and made my way upstairs. In my room, with the door closed and locked, I set the package on Sissy’s bed. My gaze darted to the headboard. I was grateful to find the screw was in the same position as I’d left it.

I stared at the parcel. It appeared to have been opened and resealed by military censors.

I couldn’t imagine why Sissy’s mother would send something to her.

Sissy left for home weeks ago. Perhaps the mail was slow.

If the package was posted at the time of Sissy’s leaving, it may have crossed paths with her as she traveled home.

With the ongoing war, it wasn’t unheard of for mailed items to get lost or delayed.

There’s also the fact that Oak Ridge remained a secret to the outside world.

Some postmen may not even know it exists.

I lifted the package. It wasn’t heavy. I bit my lip, the dilemma of whether to open it or not tugging me both directions.

If I didn’t open it and simply returned it, I may never know why Sissy’s family sent it in the first place.

There could be a letter inside that would help me understand the reason it was here and Sissy wasn’t.

Decision made, I tore the brown paper from it.

A tin can for saltine crackers was inside.

Puzzled, I opened the can and found several small items wrapped in red cloth, tied with string.

One by one, I took them out. Judging by the shapes and sizes, I guessed one could be socks or nylons.

Another was probably cosmetics of some type.

Clearly these were Christmas gifts.

I looked in the tin can and found a folded note.

December 12, 1944

Dearest Sissy,

How we miss your smiling face. Pa says Christmas won’t be the same without you. I hope you’re well. We had a letter from Joe. He didn’t say where he is, but Pa heard on the radio the Army was making its way into Germany. I pray our boy is safe.

Merry Christmas, my Sissy. I look forward to the day when we are all together again.

Love, Mama

I stared at the date at the top of the note. “December twelfth.”

My muddled brain calculated how long it had been since Sissy disappeared to the day her mother wrote the letter.

Plenty of time had passed for her to arrive back home in Georgia and be reunited with her family.

Why then had Mrs. Galloway written the note, indicating her daughter was still in Oak Ridge?

Why mail gifts when she could give them to Sissy on Christmas morning herself?

A chill swept through me. Like a frigid wind that suddenly blew through the room, only the window was closed and no drafts came from beneath the door.

“If Sissy isn’t in Georgia, where is she?”

The question echoed in the small space.

My heart drummed as I reread the brief note. Sissy’s mama sounded nice. She used words like dearest and my Sissy . Sissy had always spoken well of her family. It was obvious the woman had not seen Sissy since she’d come to Tennessee last summer.

I exhaled a shaky breath.

None of this made sense. The gifts. The letter. Sissy’s disappearance.

My gaze once again landed on the headboard and the loose screw.

Had Clive tried to get Sissy to join him in his traitorous activities?

I felt certain he’d told her things he shouldn’t have about the secret mission taking place in Oak Ridge.

The same things he’d told me. What if Sissy had refused?

With her brother overseas fighting Hitler, I couldn’t see her willingly betraying him.

Could Clive have threatened her and forced her to leave Oak Ridge?

Was she even now holed up somewhere, frightened the authorities would arrest her for knowing things she shouldn’t?

That scenario, however, didn’t add up. Even if she’d left town involuntarily, she would have taken her things with her. She would have told me goodbye. She would have written to her mother with a new address.

I thought back to the morning she left on the outing to Knoxville with Clive. I’d been busy with laundry, dreading the chore. She was putting the finishing touches on her makeup, but she didn’t look happy. What was it she’d said?

I closed my eyes, trying to remember.

I’m not sure I can trust him, she’d whispered that day.

What had she meant? Was she talking about Clive being a spy or something else?

She’d confessed she was having doubts about Clive, going so far as to admit she wasn’t sure she loved him.

He’d frightened her when she’d accidentally discovered the stolen documents—no doubt some of the same documents I now had hidden behind her headboard.

We were interrupted after her confession.

Prudence Thorpe had poked her head into our room to let Sissy know Clive was downstairs.

The nosey redhead had seemed surprised to find Sissy decked out in her nice clothes, being that Clive looked like he was dressed for a walk in the woods according to Prudence.

Another memory forced its way to the forefront.

When Clive drove me to the river and revealed secrets I didn’t want to know, he’d talked about the day Sissy disappeared.

At the time, I’d been more worried for my own safety and hadn’t paid attention to everything he said.

But now his words bobbed to the surface like one of the marker buoys Pa used when he’d take me and Harris fishing, warning us of hazards.

We were supposed to go to Knoxville that day, but Sissy said she wanted to talk.

We came here instead. She said she was confused about our relationship and wasn’t certain we should continue seeing each other.

When I asked why, she said she couldn’t trust me.

I distinctly remembered him giving a humorless laugh, followed by, That was the wrong thing to say.

My pulse raced as pieces to the puzzle slowly began to connect, creating a hideous picture.

Clive took Sissy to the river that day. She’d told him she couldn’t trust him and had ended their relationship.

Then she’d vanished.

Frantic, my gaze tore around the room, taking in the clues that were right in front of me.

Christmas gifts from her family. Her clothes still hanging in the closet. Her cosmetics in their case. I jumped up and opened the drawer where I’d hidden Sissy’s badge. Her sweet face looked back at me. Clive said she threw the badge at him in anger. She didn’t need it anymore, he’d claimed.

“Oh, Sissy,” I whispered, my voice strangled. “What’s become of you?”

A cold sweat covered my body as I paced the room.

I wrung my hands to keep them from shaking as I went over every piece of evidence, again and again.

From the conversation I had with Sissy before she left that day, to the bizarre exchange I had with Clive at the river.

I relived each moment of how he’d forced me to hide the stolen documents.

His confession to spying for Russia. The fire. The threats.

All of it—every wretched detail—pointed to a truth I’d been too blind to see until now.

Images of the wide Clinch River filled my mind’s eye.

The secluded area past the new plant where Clive and Sissy spent time was far away from prying eyes.

No one would have been around to witness anything that happened.

Clive was the last person to see Sissy. The only one who truly knew what happened.

I dropped to my knees as a terrible awareness forced breath from my lungs. I gasped for air as hateful words spun through my mind.

Is Sissy dead? Did Clive kill her?